


Sleeping in the Devil's Bed

by gryffindorJ



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Play, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bondage, Cunnilingus, F/M, Facials, Infidelity, Semi-Public Sex, implied Sirius/other men, spag bol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-16
Updated: 2012-01-16
Packaged: 2017-10-29 16:18:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/321770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gryffindorJ/pseuds/gryffindorJ
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sirius was a study in contradiction for Narcissa. He looked like a pureblood and sounded like a pureblood. He also could have the cold calculation Narcissa knew so well. But he was emotional, wild, and startlingly blunt. It kept her coming back again and again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sleeping in the Devil's Bed

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ariadneelda](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=ariadneelda).



The cold vodka mixed with tonic slid down her throat, and despite the slow, pleasant burn of the alcohol, she felt coolness envelop her body.

At first, she had enjoyed the clear, warm weather — so much better to shop in than the pissing rain — but eventually, as her robes began to feel heavy and her blouse sticky on her chest, she grew tired and was ready for a break.

Narcissa ran a hand across her still-sticky throat and across the back of her neck, gathering her hair in her hand and pushing it to the side.

She normally avoided the Leaky Cauldron, but The Baron's Keep, the pub she preferred in Diagon Alley, was closed for renovations. She could have gone home, of course, but she wanted a drink first. The Leaky Cauldron, for all its plebeian faults, did have a decent selection to choose from, even if the clientele was far from desirable.

As if the thought had power, it drew said clientele to her like a magnet. She sensed someone behind her, but didn't immediately turn, knowing it was best to ignore whoever it was.

"Cissy." The word, her familial nickname, was a deep whisper in her ear as an arm snaked around her and reached for the dish of roasted pumpkin seeds. She knew the voice immediately and tried to forget the thrill of excitement that traveled up her spine.

He flopped down on the stool next to her, motioned to the nasty looking barman, and smirked at her as he popped another pumpkin seed into his mouth.

She gave him the slightest flick of her eyes and took another sip of her drink. Even with that small glimpse, she could tell he looked good. It had been some time since she'd last seen him. Four years perhaps? His hair was much longer now; he had kept it short, before he ran away, one of the countless ways in which he rebelled. Narcissa figured the longer hair had more to do with him being some kind of dirty hippie rather than any lingering sense that a proper adult pureblood male should have long hair.

It was the same colour as Regulus's and Bella's — black as a ravens wing — but his had a graceful way of laying that highlighted the angles of his face, the firmness of his jaw, his high cheek bones. His eyes looked the same, the constant glint of amusement whether open or secret. Right now it wasn't a secret; he was clearly trying to get under her skin by calling her 'Cissy'.

"Thanks, Tom," Sirius said as the bartender set a large glass of orange juice in front of him.

"I thought you of all people would drink something stronger," Narcissa sniffed, still not looking at Sirius.

Sirius didn't answer right away; he was too busy gulping his juice. He put the empty glass down with a satisfied "ahhh," and out of the corner of her eye, she saw him wipe his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Just rolled out of bed less than an hour ago. What time is it anyway?"

"It's half three," Narcissa said, biting her tongue to keep from remarking about his being as slovenly as ever. Instead, she slid a napkin towards him, a fruitless hint that he should at least not use the back of his hand.

"What have you been doing? Shopping for new robes for Lucy?" She could hear her bags crinkle as Sirius nudged them with his foot.

This time she looked at him but kept her features set, her eyes cold. He did look good, she noted. Masculine.

" _Lucius_ prefers to do his own shopping. I'm here for myself and a few household items."

"Bet you got something for the old wanker. I see a Kenmare's bag there." Before Narcissa could move to stop him, Sirius had plucked a pair of knickers out of the bag.

"Nice," Sirius said, holding up the delicate scrap of lace and satin. Narcissa made to snatch them away, but Sirius deftly caught her wrist and held the knickers out of reach with his other hand. "Purple. I wouldn't have guessed that was his colour."

"They're mine, you idiot. Give them back," Narcissa said, reaching with her free hand.

"Really?" Sirius said, lowering his hand and crumpling the knickers in his fist. He raised a brow at her. "I pegged you for a light pink sort of bird. Tasteful and never trashy."

"You think about the colour of my knickers, do you? Is this some sort of special perversion, imagining the colour of pants your family wears?" She gave him the same look, arching one brow.

Sirius laughed, and it was loud and carefree. Narcissa had forgotten he was this way — totally unabashed. It was something she had secretly liked about him, and found it amusing, though she would never let anyone know that.

"How else was I supposed to survive family events? Only ever thought of your knickers, though. Bellatrix is such a fucking cold bitch, if she wore knickers they'd probably be made of steel and freeze right to her fanny. Andromeda ..." Sirius shrugged as if this was supposed to convey his feelings about her. "She's the sensible pants type, not very exciting. But you ... you always had that look in your eye. You like things like lace bras and knickers, probably a bit of leather and bondage thrown in for good measure."

Narcissa's eyes widened and she flared her nostrils, moderately insulted he had thought of her in such a way. Though, if she was honest with herself, the part of her that had always found Sirius intriguing was flattered by the thought.

"You're disgusting," she spat.

"Am I? You're the one who hasn't pulled away," Sirius said, his eyes flicking to where he still held her wrist.

She twisted it out of his grip and clutched her arm to her chest, glaring at him.

He only grinned at her and blinked his long, thick eyelashes. "Don't break my heart and tell me you never wondered about my pants," he said.

She gave him a withering look and huffed. "You're filthy," she said, but there was no heat behind it.

"Indeed, but I'll take that as a no, which is a good thing since I don't usually bother with them."

"Shocking."

"I will admit red lace looks rather striking on me."

"Do you have a preoccupation with men wearing knickers? This is the second time you've brought it up."

"I'm far more preoccupied with the notion that, by keeping the subject in this general area, about knickers, I'm more likely to get into yours."

Narcissa laughed, thinking he was having her on. The only time Narcissa thought he was ever serious, was when he was spouting his wizard equality tripe to his parents, and even half of that she thought was just to tick them off. She quickly realized he wasn't joking at all by the way his eyes travelled up her crossed legs, to where she had her robes pulled up to her knees, and then up to her breast, where she had undone the top few buttons of her robe and blouse to cool herself. A hint of her décolletage showed. Not much, but the way he stared was enough to make her feel almost naked.

"You're outrageous," she said with an almost unladylike snort. She turned away and took a sip of her drink, then shook her hair off her shoulder, arching her back. Being looked at, even by one's degenerate yet attractive cousin, was at least tolerable. "Even though you weren't invited, I am sure you know Lucius and I are married. Have been for a few years now."

"So?" Sirius said, shrugging one shoulder, and nibbling suggestively on a pumpkin seed.

"You can still fuck other people. Or are Malfoys not like Blacks and actually take their marriage vows seriously?"

Narcissa laughed coldy. All old families were the same in the end. "Of course not, they're just like us. You know damned well that offspring is the only thing that matters. My in-laws despise each other."

"I know a lovely room upstairs," Sirius said lightly, but his eyes were still scanning Narcissa, undressing her.

She sat up straighter on her stool. She wasn't about to openly flirt back. "I have more respect and affection for my husband than to be seen sneaking up the stairs at this god-forsaken pub with _you_."

"Think about it, Cissy—"

Narcissa held up a finger to stop him and said, "Before you say whatever filthy thing you're about to say, I suggest you don't call me by a nickname my family uses. It's not arousing in the slightest."

"I wasn't going to say something filthy," Sirius said, his face blank.

"Of course you were. How else do you get women to part their thighs for you? "

Sirius didn't smile wolfishly, or even leer as she would have expected, though he did give her a look that had probably dropped more than one pair of knickers in its time: eyes narrowing to highlight the dark lashes around light eyes, mouth in a slight pout, face brimming with a confidence that he could bring you off like that. Narcissa was ashamed to discover that the look worked on her as well, and she felt her stomach tighten with anticipation.

"How do you know that's what I want? Maybe I just want you to suck my prick," he said.

Narcissa swallowed. Well then. She should have guessed he would be so blunt. "I can see it in your face, Sirius. You want to be between my legs."

"I do," Sirius said, and then leaned in close to add, "right after I fuck your mouth."

All pretences gone, she found herself in a vacant back room moments later, waiting for Sirius. She didn't have to wait long as he Apparated with a muted crack. She was pleased to see he didn't just follow her down the corridor.

She was about to compliment him on showing a hint of intelligence, but she was cut off as he pressed his mouth to hers and pressed her back against a wall. He tasted of orange juice, sweet with a hint of tartness on her tongue.

Narcissa pulled away, intending to slide down his body, but he stopped her. Instead, he knelt in front of her and began pushing her robes up, nudging her legs apart at the same time.

"I thought—" she began, but lost the rest of her words as Sirius ran one rough finger between her legs.

He pulled down her pale pink knickers and she heard him chuckle against her thigh. "Knew I was right." Before she could think of a suitable retort, he mumbled, "God, your fanny's wet," while pushing her thighs further apart.

He slid the tips his fingers up her inner thigh. His skin felt dry, almost raspy. As he put his hand flat against her thigh, she could feel a callus just below his middle finger. Everything about him was … rough.

Sirius licked a path across her cunt with his tongue, wide and flat. Her body tightened, wanting more, and she bit back a moan.

He licked her again, and then again, not easing into it at all. He buried his face in her, tongue darting across her clit one moment, and mouth sucking, enveloping her, in the next.

Her legs shook and she spread them wider, putting the palm of her hand against the back of his head and urging him on. Sirius growled, and thrust his tongue deeply into her. Narcissa's head dropped back, knocking painfully against the wood panelling. She ignored the pain, her fingers tight in his hair and she pressed her into his face.

Sirius pushed his tongue inside her again, rubbing his thumb over her clit while he licked at her, his lips and tongue and thumb all moving in a perfect rhythmic motion. She moaned despite herself, feeling her orgasm edging closer. He circled her clit with quick, even pressure, and pushed his tongue further and further ...

A low guttural moan built from Narcissa's throat and escaped through her lips as she came, pulsing around him.

Her vision was cloudy, and her ears felt stuffed with cotton as he suddenly stood face–to-face with her. He rubbed his wet lips against her cheek, stubble rasping lightly, and then kissed her, his tongue in her mouth as he slid his cock into her still-sensitive cunt.

She gasped and gripped his back, nails digging into him as he lifted her up, pressing her roughly against the wall, and she wrapped her legs around his waist. He fucked her hard, his fingers squeezing her arse, and she came again rather unexpectedly, clenching around him as he filled her.

Narcissa felt clammy, a little out of breath, and her legs were shaky as she lowered them to the floor. As Sirius put his half-hard cock back in his jeans, he smirked at her from under lowered lashes. She scowled back at him. He had thoroughly and skilfully fucked her, but she wasn't about to acknowledge that.

With a flick of her wand she cleaned herself, and with another she straightened the creases out of her robes.

"See you around?" Sirius said, still looking disgustingly smug.

"If I'm lucky, it won't be for another five years," Narcissa said as she gathered her shopping bags and turned to leave.

"Mmhmm. You'll be gagging for my prick within the week," Sirius said.

Narcissa shot him a glare over her shoulder. He smugly looked back and twirled her forgotten knickers around his left index finger.

"Give those back," she said.

"Put on a pair you just bought. I think I'll be keeping these."

He stopped twirling them and held the knickers under his nose, inhaling slowly. His eyes were shining with delight. "Love the smell of your cunt."

Narcissa strode across the room, slapped Sirius across his damned smirking mouth, whirled around on her heel, and stomped out.

*

Narcissa sat brooding over her cup of tea. There was plenty for her to be doing. Lucius' birthday was in a month and a half, and she should be finalizing the guest list. The new gardener needed to be checked up on as well. She still didn't know if the non-English speaking imbecile could actually tell the difference between a Flitterbloom and a Devil's Snare. There was also next week's dinner menu to approve.

None of that interested her at the moment. She stared into the cup, wisps of steam rising from its surface, thinking about her stolen knickers and that bastard Sirius. She tried to push him from her mind but her body didn't seem too keen on the idea. She flushed thinking about the way he licked her, felt her nipples harden as she thought about the disgusting way he wiped his mouth on her, and for the love of god, she felt herself moist with interest remembering how he'd fucked her.

 _"You'll be gagging for my prick within the week."_

With a cry of annoyance and disgust, she flipped over her tea tray — the elves would clean it — and stomped out of the parlour.

~

Narcissa straightened her back and steeled her expression as she raised her hand and knocked on the door.

It swung open before she was ready, and as if that wasn't enough, the person who answered it wasn't Sirius. It was one of his friends. Not the other layabout, Potter, but a different one.

"Who is it, Remus?" she heard Sirius call out.

"It's…er…it's your cousin," the person, Remus apparently, said, features carefully neutral. "Would you like to come in?" he asked, politely enough.

Narcissa glanced past him and quickly studied the flat. It wasn't a complete pigsty, as expected, but there was the odd cloak throw over the back of a chair, shoes and dirty socks in a pile in the middle of the floor, and empty plates littered with toast crumbs. It also smelled strangely of…oil or grease.

Narcissa stepped in gingerly, as if being in the place would give her some sort of disease. Once inside, she immediately saw why she had smelled the oil; in the corner of the flat stood a Muggle motorcycle.

Sirius walked over to her, wiping his hands on a grease-stained rag.

"Narcissa," he said with that infuriating smile.

She cleared her throat. "The elves cleaned out some old boxes and I seem to have some photographs that belong to you. They're charmed so I couldn't burn them or shred them. Even soaking them in water didn't work, and worse, they refuse to be removed from the bloody frames."

She heard Sirius' friend chortle behind her.

"Go ahead and put them on the table," Sirius said, gesturing with his chin. Narcissa looked at the coffee table he indicated; it was littered with newspaper, tumblers and tea cups with the dregs still in them. She held her hand over the table and dropped the bag containing the photos. It fell with a loud clunk, perhaps smashing a tea cup beneath it.

"This looks like a family thing so I'll be on my way," Remus said. He grabbed his cloak, nodded at Narcissa and said, "See you later, Sirius." Narcissa could tell by the grin that suddenly split Sirius' face that the friend had either made a face or some crass gesture behind her back.

She turned around and glared at him, and he had the decency to drop his head and blush as he hurried out.

"Is this your idea of decorating?" Narcissa asked, indicating the motorcycle.

Sirius gave an almost imperceptible shrug. "Not usually, no. Couple of the charms on her are acting up so I brought her up here to fix."

" _Her_?" Narcissa said, raising a single brow.

"She's clearly a lady, or can't you tell?" Sirius said, raising one brow in reply.

Sometimes Narcissa really despised that family trait, though she employed it herself often enough. He just looked so bloody _smug_.

"She has smooth curves, a supple and soft seat. When I ride her, she's warm and she vibrates." Sirius said this slowly, letting each word hang heavy and seductive in the air. His eyes darkened as he looked her up and down, and he licked his bottom lip with the tip of his tongue. "The way you moaned, I was sure you'd want more, only …" Sirius stroked his thumb across his cheek where she had slapped him and tilted his head. "Suppose you wouldn't have slapped me if you hadn't liked it so much."

"I came to give you your rubbish. That is all," she snapped.

"Could have owled it. Awful lot of trouble to come and find me."

"I can Apparate."

"Been thinking about me, haven't you? Thinking about the way I licked you? Ate you out then fucked you? Made you come again on my cock?"

She wished he would shut up. His words were crude and completely uncouth, and she hated listening to them, but they aroused her none the less. She wanted him to do that all again, lick her, fuck her, and worse, she wanted even more than that. It was infuriating, really, but she wouldn't give in so easily. She crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes in a steely gaze.

"I want my knickers back."

"No. They still smell like you."

"You are more disgusting than I ever imagined possible. Give. Them.Back.".

He stepped closer to her, not touching, but close enough that she could feel the heat from his body. She breathed out sharply, and her breasts nearly skimmed his chest. She resisted the urge to move that tiny bit forward, but it was more difficult than she'd expected. She wanted to feel him against her nipples and breasts. She held herself rigidly as Sirius looked down at her.

"Show me how you touch yourself when you think about my cock in you, and maybe I'll consider giving your knickers back."

*

Sirius was a study in contradiction for Narcissa. So much about him was pureblood to a fault: his strong handsome face; his tall, masculine body; the accent he failed to disguise; his gait and ease of movement; the strong thrum of magic that pulsed through him.

So many things, though, were not.

His eyes were the same grey so common among old families. They could be cold, unfeeling, but in a flash they could burn her. All the heat from his body blazed behind them, and there was a depth, a light that was somehow ... different.

He lived in such a common way — it should have disgusted her — but it was so very _Sirius_ that somehow it didn't. He had no detachment from his emotions. They were in everything he did, and it confused her how it could be so.

He was also straightforward and clear about what he wanted. He played a very different game from the one she was accustomed to, and though it caught her off guard more often than she preferred, she had to admit she found it refreshing if annoying at times.

When he'd sat on his heels at the foot of his bed, watching her slide her hand into her pants, he had demanded she remove her knickers. Annoying as his whinging was, she'd refused. It was enough she was on his filthy bed — likely stained with the come of various men as Sirius had absolutely no discretion when it came to such things, nor did his flat look as though he did his laundry all that frequently — but she had already lost one pair of knickers. Considering her body's current war with her pride, she wasn't about to lose anything else to him.

His face had been perfectly impassive as he watched her fingers gliding over her clit, but his eyes were a dead giveaway to what he was feeling. He had looked at her like he wanted to devour her. Of course she'd always had many men admire her in any number of ways, but the hungry looks and the leers of other men didn't interest her. Sirius's expression was slightly different, and more enticing. It was animalistic, feral, like he would take what he wanted from her bit by bit.

The problem was, she was far too willing to acquiesce.

When he'd finally pounced and shoved her against the headboard, she knew her suspicions had been more than accurate. He had shoved her knickers to the side and pushed balls-deep into her with one thrust, pinching her nipples with his grease-stained fingers.

But there was a distinct coldness in him, and Narcissa found she was much more comfortable with that aspect. He never pursued her, always waiting for her come to him. She enjoyed the sense of power it gave her, and so she let him do anything he wanted to her, not because she was relinquishing that power, but because whether he realised it or not, he was giving her exactly what she wanted.

Sirius had the uncanny ability to suggest the filthiest thing, yet make it sound as trite as if he was asking if you wanted sugar in your tea. The suggestion would be made and Narcissa would usually protest or glare at him in a reproachful way, but in her mind she was already considering it. Images swirled around her head before she could stop them and her body reacted intuitively. With each passing encounter, she realized she was conceding more willingly.

When they had met in a Muggle hotel, as they stepped into the empty lift he had mentioned that she had yet to suck his cock. The doors were barely closed before she was on her knees, unzipping his jeans. Now, just thinking about the way he pushed his cock in her mouth and gripped the back of her head, his fingers twisting in the hair at the nape of her neck, made her mouth water in anticipation.

Afterward, Narcissa had worried that he'd broken down all her walls, done away with her resistance. When she considered never seeing him again, sheer desire marched her back to his flat within a day.

Sirius somehow knew to come at her slowly. He had taken his time with her, and with cool calculation and soothing words, he convinced her to let him tie her to the bed. When he touched her, pleasured her, fucked her and came on her face, it was with a raw emotion that both unnerved and excited her.

Narcissa could no longer deceive herself into thinking she could stay away. Neither of them were fool enough for love, but Sirius let lust rule him so much that it overwhelmed him, and it dragged them both away.

Their relationship had very few limits. Neither of them ever mentioned Lucius' name, and in turn she never said anything about his friends. They only met in places she considered acceptable. She was a married woman and she had standards, after all.

Sirius, Gryffindor that he was, eventually tested those limits. They were once again in his cluttered flat. He was zipping up his jeans, and reached down to pick up her knickers from the floor.

"Here," he said, handing them to her.

"Thank you. Why don't you give me back my other ones as well?"

Sirius threw back his head and laughed, and she could see his stomach muscles flex with the effort. "Thought you'd forgotten about those."

"Do I strike you as being forgetful? They're mine," Narcissa said tightly. "It's been so long they must have … outlived their use to you."

"Yeah but—" Sirius shrugged. "I like having them."

"I want them back."

"No." He crossed his arms and looked every bit the stubborn arse he was.

Narcissa narrowed her eyes. It was only a lousy pair of knickers — she had dozens more — but it was a matter of principle at this point. "What can I give you for them in exchange?"

Sirius smirked. "I already get everything I want from you, sweetheart."

Furious with him for calling her an endearment, and even more furious with herself because his words were far truer than she wanted to admit, she blushed. She took a deep breath. "There has to be something," she said tightly.

Sirius blinked and cocked his head to side in contemplation. A slow, predatory grin crept across his face. "The old man's house," he said.

"Absolutely not" she said, and was heartened to know she still had the ability to outright refuse him.

"How many has he got? Three, four? Surely he could spare one of them."

"Not for you. Think of something else. I have to go," Narcissa said, removing her robes from a hook by the door and slipping them on.

She was about to open the door when he stopped her cold. "Your arse. If Lucius' house is off limits, I want your arse."

Narcissa wheeled around and stared at him. She'd thought she was beyond Sirius' ability to shock her.

"Are you mad?"

"Maybe," he said. "But I want one or the other. You choice."

"Goodbye," Narcissa said, and slammed the door behind her. That was it. She was never coming back, no matter how badly she might want to. She clenched her wand tightly and took a series of deep breaths to calm herself before Disapparating, regretting that she hadn't cursed him before leaving.

*

At first, Narcissa told herself she was fine. She did have Lucius, and their relationship had always been satisfying. Lucius treated her like a lady. He was delicate and tender with her, always bringing her to a slow, steady orgasm before taking his own pleasure. It was enough, she told herself.

Only, a few days later, Lucius — damn him! — left for a two week business trip. He was no sooner gone then Narcissa suddenly wanted, _needed_ to be fucked; hard enough to forget her own name. She'd kept it at bay with Lucius here, but now...

She clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms, she wouldn't give in. She would not go to Sirius.

After four days, Narcissa woke from a confused dream. She was panting as though she'd run a mile, as wet as if Sirius had just run his fingers across her, and she was so angry she could kill someone. She couldn't figure out what the dream had been about, but one thought stuck in her head: That fucking bastard still had her knickers.

It infuriated her that she was so obsessed with a silly bit of lace that cost mere sickles, but that wasn't the point. They were _hers_ , and how dare he think he could take something from her and keep it. Before she could think better of it, she dressed and Disapparated to London.

Moments later, she was banging on his door, calling his name. She didn't know the hour, didn't care, but she doubted he was asleep. The thought crossed her mind that he might not be alone, and she paused mid-knock. She considered leaving and was reaching for her wand when the door swung open.

His hair was sleep–tossed, and despite what he said all those months ago in the Leaky Cauldron, he was wearing pants. In fact, he was wearing only pants.

Caught in mid-decision, whether to leave or not, she was struck speechless. She looked him up and down, and was trying to come up with something sensible to say when he seized her wrist and growled, "What the hell are you doing banging on my door and yelling? It's fucking two in the morning!"

He pulled her inside and shut the door behind her. "I've enough trouble with the neighbours without you screaming my name in the corridor."

"I-I'm—," she stammered, suddenly embarrassed that she'd been reduced to such rude, thoughtless, behaviour. She shook his hand off her wrist and steeled her spine, remembering why she'd come. "I want my knickers back," she said.

"I told you what the bargain was. You didn't have to practically break down my door in the middle of the night for them. Unless you've come for something else." He tilted his head and grinned. "You're gagging for my cock, aren't you?"

She glared at him, but said nothing. His arrogance stung her pride, but damn him, he wasn't exactly wrong either.

"We can do something else if you're still thinking it over. Your knickers don't have to be up for the taking," he said lightly, scratching his belly, though she could tell by his expression that his thoughts were already between her thighs.

She considered this for a moment. It would be so easy to push him to the floor and ride him until she was sated and the annoyance abated. But no. She wanted her knickers back. Damn it!

"The townhouse," Narcissa said with sudden decision. The last Malfoy who had lived there, Lucius's great uncle, had dismissed all of the house-elves and then redecorated the entire interior in blinding white, accented with animal prints. He'd been absolutely mental, of course, but he'd died years ago, and no one had yet taken the time or money to renovate the horrid decor. The house-elves still cleaned it once a week, but the house would be empty now.

"All right," Sirius said with a nod. He at least had the decency not to look too smug. "See you there tomorrow. I'll have to make it early. I have a thing later."

"No. We're going now," Narcissa replied. "I'm not waiting any longer."

Sirius grinned. "Thought so."

"Shut up."

Sirius shrugged and looked around the floor of his flat, found a pair of ratty jeans and sniffed several t-shirts before settling on one. Narcissa looked away in disgust.

He slipped on his shoes, threw on his cloak, and walked to the fireplace, taking down a small jar full of Floo powder and offering it to her.

"Where to?"

Narcissa strode forward, took a pinch of powder and threw it in the fire. "Wait thirty seconds so I can disable the protection spells," she said, and stepped in the flames. "Chestnut Circle, master bedroom."

The torches lit as she stepped out of the Floo. Narcissa was pleasantly surprised to see she had arrived in the correct bedroom, but dismayed to see the animal print decor was worse than she recalled.

She quickly disabled the spells, and checked the walls to make sure the family portraits had not been replaced when she heard Sirius Floo in behind her. She turned to watch as he stepped out of the fire, dusting ash from his shoulder.

"I like the rug," Sirius said, looking down. "Zebra. Very chic. Is that a—" Sirius walked to the bed in three quick strides. "Dragonhide bed. Now that's classy." Narcissa was sure he was joking. Then again, Sirius was probably a huge fan of tacky.

Narcissa slipped off her cloak and placed in on the closest chair. "Right. Let's get on with it."

"Why the rush? Or will Lucius wonder where you are?" Sirius asked, slipping off his shoes, and testing the mattress. He seemed to find it satisfactory and sat down on the edge of the bed.

"Lucius is away on business."

"Taken Muggle torture to the continent?"

For a moment Narcissa felt her insides flare. He was trying to bait her, but it wouldn't work. "Muggles are for the lesser sort. He's got more important business than that."

"That's not what I heard," Sirius said, lying back and reclining on his elbows.

"Frankly, I don't give a shit about what you heard. That's not why we're here."

"Good point," Sirius said, sitting up. "Now where's that bottle I brought?" He tapped his cloak. "Ah yes, here it is." He pulled out a thin glass phial from the inner pocket.

"What's that?" Narcissa asked.

"You'll want this if I'm going to fuck your arse."

"No, we're in one of the many houses you proposed. We had a deal."

"Deal's changed," Sirius said as if it were all a simple misunderstanding.

"What?" Narcissa said, eyeing the vial with disgust. "You said one or the other, my choice. I've chosen and you can't go changing it to suit your perverted whims. You're a Gryffindor for the love of Merlin. You're supposed to be overflowing with honour."

Sirius pursed his lips and nodded. "This is true, but you refused the first deal. This is a new one. I want your arse."

"You fucking son of a bitch!" Narcissa said through clenched teeth.

"Don't I know it."

"You can't— I won't—" Narcissa's anger was blinding, and she lashed out on instict. "I am not one of your filthy, mudblood-loving friends. I will not let you fuck me like you fuck them."

The moment the words left her mouth she knew it had been a mistake. Sirius' eyes flashed in a way she'd never seen. He grabbed her by her arms, and for a moment she was sure he would hit her. But no; Sirius was uncouth, unmannered, and rude, not violent.

"You bitch." He pulled Narcissa in, kissing her roughly, biting her lower lip. "You don't know one thing about me or my friends. As long as my prick is making you moan, you don't give a damn about anything else."

"I see my intentions with you have been crystal clear then."

"Exactly. Now give me what I want because I know you want it, too. I know you've thought about it, considered it. I'd bet my vault at Gringotts that you've even put your finger in your hole while you brought yourself off just to see how it would feel. You, like, it."

Narcissa's eyes widened. She had in fact, more than once.

"You want Lucius to think you're a lady, so you'd rather choke on your own tongue than tell him what you want. And Merlin forbid you told him you want that. You're worried he'll think you're a whore. But I won't. I'll worship you. Bring you off again and again while I fuck you in the one place no one else has."

Narcissa was tall, but not as tall as Sirius. She gripped the back of his neck and jerked him down so his forehead pressed against hers, and their eyes locked.

"Lick me open first."

Sirius kissed Narcissa again, sealing the deal.

His hands reached for the hem of her jumper and pulled it over her head. In her rush to leave the house, she hadn't bothered with a bra, and Sirius made a noise of approval. He backed up to the bed, taking her with him, sat on the edge, and pulled her down to straddle his lap. He held her breasts in his large hands and dropped his head to them, licking and sucking at her nipples, lightly kneading the flesh of them.

"God, your tits," he moaned. Narcissa arched her back and buried her hands in his thick hair, holding his head to her chest.

He slid his hands up and rolled her nipples between the thumb and forefinger of each hand. "Can't believe I haven't fucked your tits yet. You'd love it, me coming all over your chest."

Narcissa head dropped back and she moaned. No he hadn't done that, and yes she wanted him to, but there was plenty of time for that later. She scooted herself forward on his lap so she could feel his erection rub against her. His jeans caught on the lace of her knickers, and she gasped as the fabric scraped against her sensitive flesh.

She pushed him back on the bed, almost grateful for the tacky, white fur comforter. It was hideous to look at, but it was soft against her knees. She kissed him again, enjoying his full bottom lip and the dart of his tongue.

Narcissa lowered herself down his body, dragging her fingers through the sparse hair of his chest, down across his strong belly to the flies of his jeans. His cock was straining, pushing at the fabric. She undid the buttons and zip, stroking his cock as she eased his jeans and pants over his hips.

He closed his eyes and moved into her touch, hips arching up with each stroke.

"Don't disappoint me by coming," she said lightly.

His eyes opened and he levelled her with a look before pulling her to him. Bodies flush together, he rolled her over so she was underneath.

"I think," he whispered, breath warm on her cheek, "I should take care of you first."  
He slid his hand down her body and into her pants. "Just relax."

He stroked her with two fingers and her hips snapped up immediately. Narcissa gripped his back with one hand while the other balled up in the bedding. He rubbed his fingers the length of her cunt, back and forth. "You're always so wet for me," he said in her ear. "My hand is soaked with you."

Narcissa moaned, thrusting her hips faster. Sirius ability to talk dirty never went unappreciated.

"That's right, good. Come. Fuck yourself on my fingers, make yourself come."

Sirius pushed two fingers in her and brushed his thumb firmly to her clit, and she cried out as her body released and pulsed around his fingers.

"Good," he murmured, and sat up, moving between her legs. He spread her thighs wide as he settled on his chest and belly, and licked her very sensitive flesh.

"Fuck!" she cried out. It was almost too much.

He licked her delicately, slowly, taking his time. She barely noticed as he slid his hands beneath her arse and canted her hips. He spread her legs even wider, and she sucked in a breath as his tongue moved lower, and when he licked around her hole, she convulsed and nearly kicked him in the head.

"It's fine. You're fine. Lay down," he said, caressing her legs and easing them back open before returning his mouth to her.

Narcissa dug her hands and feet into the bed as he licked her arse. It was like nothing she had ever felt before. She hadn't expected that it could be so pleasurable to be licked…there of all places.

It was overwhelming and amazing, and she was just beginning to relax into it when Sirius carefully pushed one slicked finger inside her. It felt good, and she moaned softly, thrusting into his hand to tell him so. He fucked her with his finger circling inside her.

"That's it," he whispered. "Just like that. I could fuck you all night," he said as he eased a second finger alongside the first.

This time it burned, and she felt herself stretching around his digits. She didn't force herself down on his hand this time but stilled, trying to absorb the sensation.

"Don't tighten up. Yes, good," he said as he bent forward to lick her clit. Her body quivered with pleasure.

He fucked her with his tongue and his hand, slowly, deliberately, for what felt like hours, scissoring and twisting his fingers in her. She felt close to coming, god she wanted to, then he lifted his head, and he pushed a third finger inside. She cried out, pleasure mixing with frustration.

He chuckled, low and rough. "Don't worry. I know what you need."

She looked at him, a silhouette framed between her thighs with the firelight to his back. Cloaked in shadow as he was, he could be anyone. His breathing was so quiet, and she closed her eyes, breathing in his scent — soap, whisky, tinged with motor oil— and feeling his touch upon her skin, that contradictory way he had of being both hard and soft at the same time. It was unmistakeably Sirius, and the fact that she didn't need to see him to recognise him made her spine tingle.

She opened her eyes again, and as her eyes adjusted to the dim light, she began to see his features more clearly; the sheen of sweat across his brow, the light stubble on his cheeks and around his mouth, and his eyes, darker than she'd ever seen them. They were as black as sin.

"Ready?" he asked, meeting her gaze.

She nodded, unable to speak coherent words.

He removed his hand and slicked his cock.

Narcissa sat up. "Wait," she said. She rolled over on her hands and knees, and looked over her shoulder at him. "I like it like this. You behind me, I mean."

He grinned and settled between her thighs, pressing his own against her inner thigh. They were hard with muscle and warm. When she felt the head of his cock against her arse, she felt suddenly breathless, and all other thought was lost.

"That's it, relax, god, yes," Sirius said, and slowly eased his cock inside. "Oh, fuck, you're so tight."

His cock felt huge inside her, and she pushed her hips back, urging him on. He pulled back and thrust forward, his hands holding tight to her hips, and Narcissa's arm shook with the effort of keeping herself up.

He fucked her slowly, taking his time with full strokes of his cock, pushing deep inside, and then withdrawing almost to the tip. It felt even better than she'd imagined as she stretched around him, moaning softly.

One hand remained on her hip while the other skated across her back, down the side of her breast, and across her nipples. Gooseflesh rose on her skin at his touch.

She liked feeling him like this, her body tight around him. Her cunt ached, feeling neglected.

"Touch me," she said, glancing at him over her shoulder. Sirius' hair hung in his eyes and he tossed his head back.

He leant forward, rolling one of her nipples between his fingers and slid his other hand from her hip to her cunt. He fingered her slowly, in time with his strokes, but she wanted more. She pushed back against him sharply, and his balls slapped against her arse. She closed her eyes, and clenched around his cock. Sirius groaned and snapped his hips, and pushed his fingers inside her.

"Fuck, oh god," Narcissa moaned. Her entire body prickled with heat. Sirius fucked her harder and brushed the pad of his thumb to her clit.

The slap of his flesh on hers echoed in the air, mingled with the sounds of their breaths and moans.

"Fuck, yeah," Sirius groaned. He moved the hand on her breast back to her hip and pulled her more firmly to him. "You're arse feels so good. So tight around my cock. God, I want to fill you."

"Make me come again," she said.

Never needing to be told twice, he fucked her harder, faster. He was everywhere inside her, cock deep in her arse, fingers fucking deep inside her cunt. Her arms and legs shook, and it took all of her strength to keep from collapsing as she came again, muscles contracting around his cock and fingers.

His thrusts became erratic and as her arms gave way, he eased his hand from her cunt, gripping her hips hard and holding her arse in the air. She pressed her forehead against the comforter's soft fur as he fucked her, riding out his own orgasm, his cock deep inside her arse.

He stayed inside her a long time. His weight was heavy against her, but it was warm and secure. Eventually, as his cock softened, he slowly pulled out, rolled off her onto his side and drew her up against his chest.

She hadn't realized she'd fallen asleep until she awoke and noticed he was no longer beside her. She lifted her head to look around for him and spotted him sitting in a chair, tying his shoes. He looked up at her and gave her a half smile, and looked pointedly at the bedpost.

Narcissa followed his line of sight and saw her much-sought-after knickers hanging there almost innocently. She blinked and looked back at Sirius, feeling slightly bereft.

"Is it over now?" she asked.

Sirius stood, stretching, scrubbed one hand through his hair, and shrugged. "I don't know. Was all of this really about a pair of knickers?"

Narcissa studied him before answering. Morning light shone through the gaps in the curtains, dissolving the earlier shadows, and showing Sirius in full colour: His handsome face, his tall body and the way he presently slouched to one side, his half-smile, and even the amusement in his eyes. It shocked her as she realised that she couldn't remember a time when Sirius hadn't existed. She'd known the cocky bastard almost her entire life. She sighed inwardly and gave him a half-smile of her own.

"No."

He walked to the bed, leant over her, and said, "That's what I thought."

He stood, and with a crack, he was gone.


End file.
